AUTHORS: dru as Faith & Evil Willow as
Angel (Go worship the goddess that is EW!)
SERIES: Chance Encounters
SEQUEL TO: Chance Encounters Version Angel-Faith
PAIRING : Angel/Faith
RATING : NC17 (highly slashy
with plenty of yummy goodness!)
DISCLAIMER : We do not own these
characters. We just like putting them in lewd positions!
NOTE: We wrote this as role-play on
Yahoo! IM! We had *so* much fun! We've co-authored before but never live like this! We hope you enjoy the fruits of
our lab- okay, so it wasn't really *work*. It was more like play!
DEDICATION: To Vicky for
cheering us on! And Caith & Pleasure Maiden for their undying love of
Faith/Angel!
=====================================================================
Oh
god... This song... I wipe the tears from my eyes and smile as I nod.
"Sure."
He
pulls me into his arms as the familiar piano and guitar start up. I remember
this song as well. My mother would throw a Garth tape in and we'd rock or dance
in the living room until Dad came home.
Moonlight
and canvas, midnight and wine. Two hearts shadows starting to softly combine.
The picture they're painting, is one of the heart. But to those who have seen
it, it's a true work of art.
As I
close my eyes again, I can see my father and mother dancing to the song,
kissing softly.
Why
did he have to die and make everything wrong? Why did she have to start
drinking? Why did she have to starting seeing... HIM?
Now,
I'm full out sobbing into his chest and he just pulls me tighter.
Oh, the red strokes. Passions uncaged. Thundering moments
of tenderness rage. Oh the red strokes! Tempered and strong! Burning the night
like the dawn.
Faith's told me enough about her life that I can only
imagine what she's thinking about. With everything she's been through, it's no
wonder she made the choices she did. As she starts sobbing softly, I just hold
her as close as I can. "You wanna go home?" I ask softly.
Home.
What
is that?
It's
Angel's arms. For as long as he'll lend them to me... or until he tires of me.
When I don't feel his passion and his eyes start to follow someone else... OR
until Buffy wants him again.
But
home. For now.
Until
I can't take it anymore. Until- until I can't live in a loveless place anymore.
Until I whore myself again.
"Yeah." I nod.
I
leave one arm around her shoulders as we make our way out of the crowded club.
Once outside, she breathes a sigh of relief. I guess it was a little
claustrophobic for someone who hasn't been really *out* in weeks.
We
walk to the car in silence. I open the door for her and she smiles at me
briefly before looking away. I know she's embarrassed by the emotion she showed
earlier, so I don't make it worse. I just smile back and get in the driver's
seat.
Besides,
there's really nothing I can say to her that will make it better. Nothing can
take away the pain of what she's been through. And I'm not one for empty words.
So I don't say anything.
After
a few blocks, though, she slides over closer to me. I'm glad she isn't going to
shut me out again. I put an arm around her shoulders and she relaxes against
me.
He
doesn't say anything. And part of me is glad because it's hard to talk about.
I've told him a lot about what happened, but I didn't really remember these
moments until tonight and I guess I need to process this.
I'm
mad at my mom. I'm more than mad. I hate her. She let those things happen to
me. She *let* her boyfriends hurt me. She let Dad go away and she let me go
when the Council took me... She taught me to whore myself. To evil. To men. To
whoever needed me.
But
now I get these memories? Of when we were happy? Of when she loved me?
It's
too much to deal with.
And
I'm just glad I suppress the part of my mind that thinks that his lack of
discussion is because he doesn't care. I know he does. He's shown me, over and
over that he *does* give a damn.
So I
slide over towards him and am happy when he wraps drapes his arm over my
shoulder. "Angel?" I ask.
"Yeah?"
We've talked a lot about his family, but... we never
talked about how he felt about them. "Do you hate your father?"
Okay.
Now I know where her mind was for the past few minutes. "Well..."
it's a hard question to answer. Not because I don't *know* the answer, but
because I'm not proud of the answer. "I think I probably would have killed
him eventually, even if Darla hadn't turned me... if that answers your question."
"No,
it doesn't."
"He
made all of our lives miserable. I'd goad him into fighting me so he wouldn't
pick on my mother and sister." I've told her some of this before, but my
family - Liam's family - that was so long ago, and I guess I prefer to leave it
in the past. However, if it helps her to deal with *her* past...
"He
never acted proud of me once, not even when I tried. So I stopped trying. I'm
not saying that all of the blame for me being the worthless piece of shit I was
belongs to him. It doesn't. I made my own choices. But because of him, I was
pretty convinced I was worthless anyway.
"So yeah, I hated him then... a part of me still
does. Is that right? Probably not, but ... I'm not perfect." Now that's
where Buffy would tell me that I'm being too hard on myself. I'm a good person.
Etc. Etc. But that's one of the things I like about Faith. She understands I'm
*not* a good person. I'm not perfect. I just try, like she does.
Hmm...
I just sit for a minute and soak it in. We're not perfect. We're not supposed to
be, I guess. That's the one thing I can always count on. I'm not perfect. I'm
not even close to perfect.
But
I guess what I'm realizing is that it doesn't matter if you're not perfect. If
the people around you look beyond the imperfections and like you anyway, then
it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks.
My
fingers play with his as I clear my throat. "I hate my mother." I
whisper. "She let everything happen to me. No. I hate what she did. She
thought she was doing the best she could, it just wasn't good enough, I
guess."
He
doesn't say anything and I like that about him. He knows when to speak and when
to listen. "Did you know that my father died?" I ask and he shakes
his head. "I'm not sure why. Mom said there was an accident. That's all I
remember. I guess I always blamed her for letting him go and for letting it
mess everything up. But she tried. She tried to find someone who could take
care of us, but instead she found... bastards who-" I close my eyes. I've
spent too long trying to block out the cries and whimpers of a twelve year old.
"But
she tried. I guess. She just couldn't try hard enough. And by the time she
realized it, it was too late. Guess I don't *hate* *her*. I hate what happened
after he died." I look around and realize that we're parked outside the
Hyperion. Time to be *that* Faith.
I shake it off and slide my hand over his thigh and start
stroking him. "So, you said something about shackles?"
And
that's the way these conversations always go. She lets me in a little and then
the wall comes up before I can blink. I just
wish she wouldn't switch off like that so fast. I know why she does it;
she's afraid. With the life she's had, she assumes if she starts to care too
much, she'll have to make the choice of leave or be left. I have to keep trying
to convince her that's not the way this has to be.
I take her hand in mine and wait until she looks up at me. I know that in a way, she needs this, some kind of control in an out of control life. But I need her to know that she doesn't have to be someone else for me to want her. I always want her. "Whatever you want, Faith," I say. "I told you I'm all yours... tonight." Almost forgot to add that last part, because now I don't think there's a time limit on it. But I don't want to frighten her away, so I keep pretending.
Tonight.
Just
for tonight, Faith.
That's
all it is. He always says stuff like that. Just for tonight. That's all it is
for him. A series of nights.
Not
that I can blame him or anything, I mean, when you've got eternity, a month or
two spent screwing a slayer into the mattress is really just a bragging right
later, when all your friends who knew are dead.
I
guess it just stings more tonight because it's the first night I can't help but
think perhaps it could be more than that. But I wouldn't wanna be tied down if
I had forever. So... I think I'll take tonight for him. And perhaps tomorrow
for myself. Pack up and head... I don't know. Boston, maybe. Haven't been there
since...
On
second thought, perhaps Boston is not the place to go. Perhaps Chicago.
I hop out of the car and turn towards him. "Then get your naked ass upstairs. NOW."
I was worried there for a second. It was almost like she
was hoping I'd say something more... No, I'm just imagining things. I suppress
a grin at her domineering tone as I follow her inside. "Um... you want me
naked first, or upstairs first?" I ask.
"At the same time. NOW MOVE!"
"Okay," I shrug and start to follow her up the
stairs. We go to my room and she walks to the closet, where the "toys"
are kept, as I start to strip.
I
must be ill.
Because
I've gone to the closet numerous times with him stripping in the background and
have never felt this much disinterest.
Like
I'm missing something huge now. I'm just crazy. Maybe it's 'cause I know that I
have to leave. I'd rather hang onto the memories of earlier tonight, when he
was so wrapped up in me...
I
get my shirt off before I notice she's not into it anymore. I'm not sure why,
but it's obvious by the way she's just standing there, staring at the chest I
keep in the closet. And I'm pretty sure she's getting close to the running away
stage. I don't understand why... but it's just a hunch I have, from weeks of
observing her.
And
I'm not about to ignore that hunch.
I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her back against me. She stiffens instinctively for a split second, before she relaxes again. "Hey. You know, I said we can do whatever you want, tonight," I say softly. "So if you don't want to play with the shackles, it's fine." I hesitate for a few seconds, before asking, "But do you want to know what I'd like to do tonight?"
Make
a complete fool out of me on the dance floor and make me feel even worse than I
already do about this entire abnormal situation, while waiting for your real
true love to come and whisk you away and crush me?
Okay.
Babbling. But out of a hundred different scenarios I have in my head as to what
he could want... all of them involve me getting hurt. Either physically or
emotionally and I'm just not... I can't. Not right now.
It's
clear he cares. But he's also made it abundantly clear that this is fun. But
it's not fun for me anymore.
God, is that right? I take a minute. And another minute. Until I realize what I'm feeling and why.
She
doesn't respond, but I can almost *feel* her pulling away. Metaphorically
speaking, since technically, she's still right here in my arms. So I've got
basically two choices here. Leave things the way they are, or try to tell her
what I'm just starting to understand about my feelings.
Both
choices involve a risk. If I just go with the way things have been, she might
leave. If she does, it will be because I completely misread any signs that
would tell me she was starting to care - too much, in her mind. If I talk to
her... well, she just might leave. In that situation, if she walked away, it
could be because she *didn't* feel the same and to get away from my stronger
emotions. Or... she could leave because she *does* feel the same, and as in the
earlier choice, she couldn't handle feeling those things.
And
I'm seriously over-thinking all of this. So far, my instinct with Faith hasn't
been wrong. I suppose there's a first time for everything, but I won't know
until I've done *something.*
This
started off as fun. It was great sex. No strings. Just physical satisfaction
with a little emotional support when I needed it.
But
that's not good enough anymore. I guess, in taking my life back from the
Council, and in realizing that what happened to me was not all my mother's
fault or mine, I've realized that I want something more.
I
want the song. The rest of my life. Red strokes... whatever you wanna call it.
I want it. I think I might finally be ready to stop running from myself.
And it'll crush me if I don't run directly into Angel's arms. If he doesn't want me that way... I guess I'm afraid now, of what he's going to say. So I say nothing.
"If
it were up to me," I say, "I'd just want to sit down, or lie down
next to you and just ... talk." That sounds so stupid, but I might as well
keep going. "I just... there are some things I need to tell you, Faith.
I've waited too long already and my only excuse is that I'm not good with
words. But I need to try. You don't have to talk, if you don't want to. Just
hear me out. After that... well, I'll tell you what else I want once I've said
the things I need to say."
I
just nod.
I can't believe she agreed. I thought she'd try to run. Well, this was what I wanted. "Thank you," I say before I let go of her. I walk over and sit on the bed, my back against a couple of pillows. I wait to see if she's going to join me or not.
From the look on his face, it looks like someone died.
I've seen that look before. The kiss off. I sit myself to the chair closest to
the door. I don't need to hear the entire 'you're a great girl, Faith' speech.
I'll be gone before he even says my name.
Okay.
There goes that wall again. Apparently, I gave her the impression that this was
the "I hope we can still be friends" talk. How ironic, considering
that my thoughts are completely the opposite. Well, there's nothing to do for
it, but just follow the plan. The plan that I constructed in about ten seconds.
Yeah, this is going to go smoothly.
She's
staring at the floor. That's fine, for now. It's a little easier for me to
think clearly enough to put sentences together that way. Except now I'm having
trouble figuring out where to start. Well... I'm babbling enough internally, I
might as well just set it loose externally.
"Okay.
Well. The first thing I wanted to tell you... and I'm not sure if you even
care. But I don't know, so I might as well..." Yeah, smooth. That's me.
"Buffy and I are over. I mean, we were a while ago, but there's no reason
for that to change." She glances up at me, confusion on her face. "I
know, don't say it, I'm assuming you even care. But, I..." am babbling?
Yes, I am. "I spoke to her, a few days after Wesley anchored my soul, on
the phone. We realized we both had moved on years ago. I have my life, she has
hers. We're friends, but we're content with that. And I know you're aware that
we still talk occasionally on the phone and I just wanted you to know that it's
not about me just using you until she and I get back together.
"Because it's not. Buffy moved on, like I said. She has somebody new. She's happy. I'm happy for her. And I ...." Fuck. Say it. Just SAY it. "I know we haven't talk about this, but I was kind of hoping that I wasn't just suffering from wishful thinking when I told Buffy a couple days ago that I had someone in my life too." And now it's out, more or less. And I'm the one avoiding *her* eyes, staring at the ceiling. Because I may be two hundred fifty years old, but I'm just as afraid of rejection as any other person who's been hurt by love.
Oh.
I...
I'm... Oh.
I
finally am able to look at him, still completely dumbfounded. Is he... I
mean... did he...
"Someone?" I ask, in the hopes that he doesn't mean someone *else*. I mean... he couldn't possibly... it's not... it can't be... *me*. Can it?
I look back at her. I'm always amazed at the fact that
she doesn't *know* how special she is. And she looks so vulnerable that it hits
me. I'm pretty stupid, for having lived as long as I have, not to have seen the
subtle signs that I wasn't alone in these feelings. *That's* why she pulled
away again. She doesn't know. Well, past tense, because by the time the night
is over, she *will* know.
I
slide off the bed and get to my feet. I walk over to her slowly, so that she
won't give into the urge to just run away. I stop in front of her chair, and
crouch down to look up into her face. She meets my gaze, but then looks away. I
take her hand and she looks back at me again.
"You,"
I reply. "You're the one in my life and I like it that way. I don't need
or want anyone else. Not just because we have great sex, because I'd still want
you with me if we weren't involved physically. You make me feel more
comfortable being me, I don't have to put on as much of a show as I do with my
other friends. I think you're the only one, in over two centuries, who has
accepted the demon in me as well as the man.
"And..." I don't know if she wants to hear this, but I need to say it. "I think..." I take a deep breath. "No. I know that I am ..." a coward? Well, yes, that too. "I'm in love with you, Faith."
Oh.
My.
God.
I
search his eyes for some kind of... I don't know. Reassurance? Joke?
Something... I... wasn't expecting *that*. I-
No.
This isn't for me. I don't get this. I stand up quickly and start for the door.
He
doesn't move.
This
time... it's different.
This
time, I stop myself.
I
hear him stand up, but he doesn't move other than that.
My
hand is on the doorknob. And the funniest thought crosses my mind... this is my
moment of truth. What my entire life has been leading toward... this very
moment.
The
choice between wanting and needing.
Running
away and finding other men because I want them. Because I want their sex. Or
their money. Or their pain.
OR
staying here where I'm obviously very much wanted and needed. Staying here and
being needy. Needy for his hands. And his lips. And his smiles. And laughs. His
arms and toes. His voice. His presence in my life... And I guess this is what
is comes down to. Letting myself be weak.
When she runs for the door, it occurs to me that maybe I assumed incorrectly. Maybe she just doesn't feel anything more than friendship for me. But I don't want to lose *that*, if it's all there is. "If you don't love me, that's okay," I say as she stands there staring at the door. "I still want you to stay here with me and let me ... take care of you. I know you may not like that idea, but it doesn't make you weak. Everyone needs *someone* to care about them. And that's all I'm asking. Let me love you. I won't push you to feel anything that you don't feel."
I turn around and face him with tears streaking down my
face and my arms curled around my stomach. "Don't say it." I plead
with him. "Don't say unless you mean it, *really* *really* mean it...
because I couldn't take being broken by you."
Okay. I was wrong again. But this time I'm glad to be
wrong. "I don't think I've ever said anything I don't mean," I say,
stepping closer to her. "But especially not about something like this,
Faith. I've been trying to figure out
my feelings for you for ... a while. I wouldn't just say I love you without
being very sure. Not when I know you've been hurt by other people who've used
those words less carefully."
OH
god...
Suddenly,
oxygen is an issue and I feel like I can't breathe.
Angel
loves me.
Angel
*loves* me.
*Angel*
loves *me*.
No
matter how many times I let the words roll around inside my head... it just
sounds unreal. Completely... unreal.
Things
like this don't happen to me.
I
don't deserve the-
But
the look in his eyes... it tells me different.
And
then I need more oxygen, but I can't get it. And my knees go weak and I just
feel like I'm falling and I don't know when I'm gonna stop, or *if* I'm gonna
stop.
And... gravity starts working and I start to fall.
I
catch her and carry her over to the bed. I sit down with her on my lap. She
still looks like she's in shock. How can she not have already suspected? I
wasn't necessarily trying to hide how I felt about her.
But
none of that matters now. I put a hand under her chin and lift it so that I can
look into her eyes. "I know you weren't expecting any of this when you
came to live with me. Honestly, I wasn't either. But unexpected doesn't mean
bad, not from my point of view, anyway. I've been happy the last few weeks. And
now, I just understand better why that was."
And I've always thought I was better with actions than
with words. So I do what I've been dying to do since I felt her pull away from
me emotionally. I lean in and kiss her, tenderly. It's the best way I can think
to reassure her that I truly love her.
God...
I thought... I mean, I'd hoped that I was ready for this. But- it's...
And
now he's kissing me. *Really* kissing me. I know it's the same mouth and tongue
that I *have* been kissing and enticing into bed for three weeks now... but
this? I'm a virgin at this.
I
don't know how to show him all I feel. I don't know how to kiss him back hard
enough or passionately enough to let him know that I'd die if he turned me
away. How do I kiss him differently, so that he knows that I'd kill myself before
I'd hurt him?
Suddenly,
I feel so... unworthy of this... his passion, his love... because what do I
have to give in return? I couldn't even tell him about my mother! Or my father!
Or Rick... And I feel like I'm choking. Like I should have something to give
him but I don't know how or why or what or *if* I even have it in my possession
to give.
Suddenly,
this isn't just sex. It's not just for fun. It's supposed to be meaningful. And
loving. And how I am even supposed to know where to start with those things?
Where am I supposed to learn how to do that? What's different about love sex
than regular sex? Does it hurt more? Is it supposed to feel better?
I pull away and stand up. "Angel, I lo-" And I
choke on the words and turn away. "I can't... I'm sorry... but I just...
can't."
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